The Problem With Impulsiveness
by JT4Life
Summary: There were too many questions buzzing around in Olivia’s head to be able to make sense of anything at all. There was just one thought that she could discern quite clearly amid the bottomless swirling pool that was her mind..." P/O fluff, final chapt up!
1. Prologue

_I'm still working on Pebbles, but I just had to get this down before I forgot! I'm trying to make Pebbles AMAZING for you guys as part of my apology :P_

_I know this is terribly short, but there is more coming soon! This is just mean to wet your appetites :)_

_Don't own Fringe. Never will. I've accepted that (NOT! haha)._

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**The Problem With Impulsiveness**

Olivia wished she that was never born.

As she walked down the quiet Boston street in the late hours of the afternoon, Olivia seriously contemplated digging a hole so that she could stick her head in it and never have to see anyone – well, one person in particular – ever again. It honestly didn't matter who she saw, though. Just existing with the knowledge that she'd gone and made the biggest fool out of herself on the job was enough to make her want to go and die in that hole.

Golden sunlight illuminated her face in long beams as it crept between the narrow alleys between the townhouses she passed. The sky above them was a mixture of gold, pinky-peach, and deep purple at the edges where the light was giving way to darkness as it slowly blanketed the world. The effervescent sky could have been the first one she'd actually been able to see in a while, but Olivia couldn't appreciate any of it. In fact, she was convinced that the beautiful canvas of colors was full out mocking her in her misery.

No matter how enchanting the surrounding world was, it always managed to bring Olivia back to the incident in question. She couldn't help it – the scene was playing on an unending loop in her mind's eye.

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_So? Tell me whatcha think so far!! Like I said, more coming and soon, maybe later today... and then Pebbles!_

_xoxo_


	2. Chapter 1

_OK, I decided to update even sooner than I'd planned because I've got some stuff to do this evening... so here it is, a little more backstory and it's a bit longer this time!_

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It had started off as a normal case – as normal as one of their cases could be. A report of an alligator in the sewers led to the discovery of something that was definitely _not_ a thirteen-foot long reptile. Olivia, along with the rest of the team, was expecting nothing more than a relapse of the sewer monster that had attacked Charlie several cases back, but upon actually going down into the sewers to lure and capture the creature, they were met with something that no one expected. When Peter and Olivia, armed with raw meat and tranquilizers and backed by Walter, Charlie, and two other agents arrived to where the bio-scanner had determined the monster's location, they found themselves at a dead end. Confused, the group turned to find that the creature had lured them into a trap. That, and the fact that there was more than one of them. Olivia shuddered at the memory of looking into the red eyes of not one but _three_ beasts, and remembering feeling the realization seeping through her veins that they were all fucked if these animals could outsmart an elite FBI team.

In that moment, Olivia had, for the first time on a case, truly believed that she was going to die. It had hit her suddenly and she panicked. Adrenaline and fear coursed through her veins like a searing poison as the beasts slowly flanked and cornered them, the tranquilizers having no effect and bouncing off their hides with a gentle tinkle of metal on metal. Olivia hadn't been alone in her fear – Charlie had looked grey as a ghost and perspiration had covered his face. The other two agents had had facial expressions of someone who was looking into the very gates of hell themselves. Beside her, Peter was rigid and his jaw was clenched, probably to keep himself from screaming. The only one who wasn't scared in the least bit was Walter who was watching the beasts in awe and mumbling something about how clever the creatures were.

Images and memories of pivotal moments and important people in her life had flashed through Olivia's mind in a blur. To her surprise, most of the flashes were of the man beside her – Peter, her one constant and someone who'd always stood by her through everything. Her eyes had locked on Peter as her back hit the wall that they were being backed into. Deep growls signified that the beasts were making their last moves before attacking. Olivia thought fast, panic overtaking her every function of her body and she grabbed Peter's hand with her own.

"Peter… P-Peter…"

When he didn't shake her off and instead squeezed back, Olivia lost it completely, gripping to Peter's jacket and clinging to him. He responded with an arm around her back and Olivia's heart nearly melted. Then it dawned on her – if they died, then he would never know how she felt, how she'd had a mad crush on him from the minute they'd met in Iraq, that it had grown into a strong affection as she'd gotten to know him better; that over all this time, she might even love him. But in a few minutes, he would never know any of that. The time was now or never.

"Peter?" she'd whispered his name softly so that only he would hear it. Peter had looked down at her and there was no way that anyone could have mistaken the look in his eyes to be anything other than care, concern… and something else that Olivia couldn't name, but he gazed at her in a way that had made her blood pressure increase another few beats. "I… I – Iloveyou." Olivia said in a rush, but she knew it was true – she, Olivia Dunham, loved Peter Bishop. Blocking out the scarred gasps, the ragged breathing of the rest of the team, and the growls, Olivia reached up and pressed her lips to Peter's in one last attempt to show him how much she cared before they were killed in this dingy sewer by genetically fucked up creatures.

For one, glorious, heavenly moment, Olivia felt Peter's lips moving against hers, slow and gentle but deeply passionate.

BANG.

They'd broken apart at the deafening sound of a military-issue combat shotgun going off from behind the creatures, hitting it in one of its hind legs and crippling it. More shots were fired as soon as it was noted that damage had been done, along with howls and roars of protest – pure chaos had erupted in the small sewer line.

Weaponless, Peter had immediately thrown himself on top of Olivia, slamming her back into the wall and knocking the wind out her in a whoosh of breath mixed with a gasp of surprise. Sometime during the attack from whoever had swept in last minute to save the day, presumably another team of agents, Olivia had clued in to the fact that they had _not_ died, and that they were not _going_ to die any time soon thereafter. She'd grasped this when Peter was still covering her, shielding her with his own body as debris rained down and the enraged creatures thrashed about.

She's done nothing short of professing her untold love to Peter, and now she was going to have to live with it.

_Fuck._

After each creature had been declared one hundred percent dead by the back-up team, Olivia and her weaponless team, who'd been flattening themselves against the wall for the duration of the tussle, began to make their way out of the sewer to be checked out by the medical team that was always on stand-by.

Olivia vaguely remembered being escorted into the back of the ambulance and doing everything in her power to not look at Peter (or anyone else for that matter) even though she could almost feel her skin burning under his perpetual gaze. As soon as she'd been cleared to go, Olivia had made a beeline for her SUV, jumped in and drove home before anyone could do anything about it.

That had been four hours ago, and she had been walking the streets for the past two in a vain attempt to clear her head, but it only resulted in giving her more time to think.

Turning the corner onto an even quieter street, and aiming to stop at the bakery at the other end, Olivia continued to walk until a familiar voice called her name from behind and she froze in place, her heart hammering like a bass drum in her ears. Olivia braced herself for whatever would come, turning slowly to face that whom she knew it must be, and wishing that she'd just dug that damn hole.

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_I'm really crazy to be writing two multi-chapter fics at the same time.... so Pebbles gets updated next, then this one! Please review, I'd love to know how i'm doing!!!_

_xoxo_


	3. Chapter 2

_Howdy folks, sorry about the little delay. I've literally been doing nothing since I've been off school, and that was something I really needed for a little while... but now it's time to actually get off my couch and do something! So I wrote another chapter :) Enjoy!_

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"Peter."

Olivia rooted herself to the spot. There would be no backing down from this, or making any kind of advancements. She was going to remain exactly where she was and just pray that things stayed clear away from disaster.

"Hi," he smiled sweetly, coming to stop just before her on the street. The setting sun played wonders on his face, lighting up every inch of his skin, and adding a brilliant vibrancy to his already over-expressive eyes. Olivia just had to stare.

"Peter, I want to apologize for my behavior… earlier. I don't usually act so impulsively and what I did, it was…" Olivia took a breath, "out of line. I'm sorry."

Peter looked at her strangely. With a sudden stab of panic in her gut, Olivia worried that she'd been too blunt, that she'd said the complete wrong thing, maybe even that there was still some sewer grime on her face – any of which could easily explain the flabbergasted look, mixed with just a hint of astonishment, on Peter's face.

"'Liv," he began gently, "I didn't come after you looking for an apology."

"You… _didn't?_" Now it was Olivia's turn to be equally stunned. "Why not?"

Peter shrugged, that smile she loved so much (Olivia's insides squirmed at the thought) warming her form the insides out. "What's there to apologize for? Actually, I should commend you on that kiss, especially under the dangerous, life-threatening circumstances. Not bad, Dunham, not bad at all."

Olivia felt her jaw drop and heard the weak "Excuse me?" coming out of her mouth, as opposed to actually telling them to do so.

"I said that you," Peter took a couple steps closer to her with every word he spoke, "aren't a bad kisser. Can't even take a compliment?"

He was joking, toying with her, Olivia could see that plainly. And for the first time, she wasn't sure exactly how to hold up her end of their usual banter… because this time, it was far from anything that could be considered normal circumstances.

"Sure I can," she retorted with a slight edge to her voice. This was her best attempt at blocking him off. If she shunned him, then there was no chance that she would allow him to get to her, to get under her skin and make her confess – again. It was nothing more than a temporary solution at best, but it would have to make do for now.

Peter, however, was not taking her steely edge the right way. In fact, he _grinned_ when he saw that she was throwing up barriers. His cocky display was almost enough to set Olivia off, because she saw that was _his_ sign of displaying the knowledge of an inevitable victory.

"'Livia, you're not looking at yourself right now. If you could, you would agree with me when I say that you can't take a compliment because," he held up a finger when she opened her mouth to protest (what she would say was not important, just that something was said to make a comeback) and continued, "_because_ you are tense. You're freaking out. That's ok, though," Peter assured her, gently placing his hands on her shoulders. "Honestly, 'Liv, I'm flattered, you don't have to worry about what happened."

"So… so you're…" Olivia swallowed down the strange lump at the back of her throat, "You think we can put this behind us? Just forget about it?"

Peter frowned, shoving his hands deep into his coat pockets, but Olivia didn't miss that wild glint in his eyes, something that had nothing to do with the sunset. "Well, I'm not sure. Did you mean it?"

Olivia automatically shook her head no. "I was under pressure, the adrenaline and…"

"'_Liv._ I'm kidding."

Shooting Peter a death look, Olivia found herself suddenly infected by his catching smile, and she couldn't help but succumb to its power. In doing so, she missed the flicker of a shadow that crossed Peter's face for a fraction of a second.

"Just messing with you, sorry." Peter apologized, throwing in a slightly forced chuckle, and wrapped an arm across her shoulders. "Yeah, I think we can put it behind us, on one condition."

"Should I be afraid to ask?" Olivia glanced up at him, that wild grin of his playing across his lips.

"I get to make fun of you for at least a week."

Olivia made a face and elbowed him in the ribs – hard.

Peter jumped away and rubbed his side in mock pain. "Fine, one week minus the weekend, but really, Olivia, is that the best you can do? A little elbow to the ribs won't stop me –,"

Olivia cut Peter off abruptly, punching him playfully in the arm and intentionally bumping into him as they fell into an easy stroll side by side.

"Deal," she said quietly. "Week_days_ only, and just around me."

"Only around you? We'll see about that one…"

Olivia shot him a warning look, but Peter, being none other than himself, just shrugged it off. "C'mon 'Livia, it's not every day I get snogged by the infamous Olivia Dunham in a sewer just seconds before my possible death. Let me have a little fun with it, eh? It wouldn't do you any harm to laugh it off either… might make things at the Bureau go a bit smoother."

Olivia nodded wordlessly. Unfortunately, he did make a good point.

Their walk continued and fell into a slightly awkward silence. Olivia wanted to forget everything, but the memory of his lips crushing hers was still vivid, like it could have happened a couple of seconds ago instead of a couple hours past.

_The next few days are going to be hell._

It was all that she could think as they approached the small deli. Olivia could only sit and mask it all with a smile as she allowed Peter to buy her a ham and cheese sandwich and engaged herself into a painfully constraining conversation – for both their sakes. She took a large bite out of the sandwich and chewed slowly to avoid talking to Peter, watching him intently as she could without making it look to obvious. If this was how things were going to be for the next little while, then _shit_. _Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit._

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_So? Feedback is love, it really is, concrit included! I love hearing what y'all've got to say. Gives me motivation to write more..... *hint hint* lol! kidding.... more on the way no matter what! Reviews just speed up the process :P_


	4. Chapter 3

_Sorry for the wait, here's the update!!! Still working on Pebbles, i'm trying to get the ending just right for you guys!_

_Enjoy :)_

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The miniature calendar on Olivia's desk said that it was Friday, and her watch said that it was ten past four, but it might as well have been nine in the morning on a Tuesday. The day was just going so damn slowly, and what's more, Peter had been taking advantage of his last afternoon to mock her for kissing him. Olivia looked up from her desk, piled up with papers as per usual, and just starred at the blank opposite wall. She'd been putting up with his comments and small side jokes all week, but for some reason, be it the growing humidity in the lab with the rapidly warming weather, the fact that she was more dead tired than usual, or a nasty mixture of the both, Olivia had had enough of it. Not that she had the energy or the will to storm out of her office, stomp down the stairs and give Peter an earful of meaningless nothingness just because she felt like it, because she really didn't.

A knock at her door startled her and Olivia forcefully dragged her mind out of the thick haze it was trapped in. Peter poked his head in the door.

"Walter wants to show you something, and you might want to hurry. I'm not sure how long he can keep this stuff at these wild temperatures before it sublimates completely."

Olivia nodded, discarded her reading glasses on the desktop, and hurried after him. Maybe Peter would forget to tease her, just for the moment.

"Olivia dear, do come and take a look at this!" Walter boomed as soon as she and Peter hit the stairs at a fast-paced jog. Olivia winced. Walter's abnormally loud voice triggered a migraine that had been hiding just bellow the surface all day, waiting for the right opportunity to assault her already tired, spent body. She bit her lip and held the pain back, pretending to be peering at the discolored chunk of what looked like ice suspended between three prongs. Walter had just removed it from a canister of liquid nitrogen, and the metal frame that held the object was still giving off that odd misty smoke that reminded Olivia of what happens when dry ice comes into contact with water. Walter swiftly transferred the substance into another machine that looked like an oven, but much more advanced. The machine was sealed up and turned on full force.

"Walter, is that an LG oven?" Peter asked skeptically.

"Yes, son, it was… before I modified it."

Olivia grinned to herself.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Walter marveled at the lump in the oven that, as Olivia watched it, was beginning to shrink. It wasn't creating any kind of powder or disintegrating in any obvious way, but the substance was definitely decreasing in mass before her eyes. "The miracles of sublimation!" Walter mused out loud, having noticed both Olivia and Peter gazing intently at his project.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," Peter began slowly, "but isn't it a bit unnatural for something to change state that quickly?"

Walter finally tore his eyes away from the over with a big smile. "That's the wonder of it m'boy! I've been experimenting with some of the samples of that goo Agent Dunham brought back from the crime scene, using extreme heat, freezing it in liquid nitrogen, this substance is really quite a mystery to me…"

And just like that, the scientist had lost all interest in his observers and busied himself procuring another sample of the goo from the large supply of the stuff that had bee brought in by the FBI.

And, just like that, Olivia had already lost her window of freedom, and it was just she and Peter left in that area of the lab while Walter tinkered away in some distant corner.

"Looks like it's just you and me all alone now, Dunham…" Peter whispered, leaning slightly into her private space to add effect. Olivia felt his breath tickle her ear and she clenched her jaw. When she quickly spun on her heel to return to the comforts of her office without so much as a second glance, Peter seemed to finally catch onto her bad mood. "Hey, 'Liv! Wait up, for God's sake!"

Olivia continued to walk to her office, blocking out the noise to preserve her insanity and her currently intact skull that was on the verge of exploding from the pressure of the migraine; pressure that grew with each clack of Peter's shoes against the stone floor as he approached her from behind. Her hand was on the doorknob when he caught up fully, and Olivia already knew that she was fooling herself think that she could just walk away from this one.

His hand was on her shoulder and a confused frown was on his face. "What's with you today, 'Liv?"

"Nothing, I'm fine," she replied curtly, turning the handle with her hand that was still resting on, or rather, _clenching_, the brass knob. Again, Peter's touch stopped her as a strong hand gently pried hers away from the door and held it fast when she tried to pull away.

"That's bullshit, Olivia, don't try that on me."

Olivia shot daggers through her gaze and engaged into a staring match with Peter. She sure as hell wouldn't be the one to surrender this battle, even though Peter's no-nonsense guise and her annoyance that had just boiled into untamable rage had already ensured her defeat.

"Let me go," Olivia hissed through gritted teeth. She moved to get her shoulder out of his grasp, but Peter was quicker and captured her other hand, drawing her closer to him.

"Only when you tell me what the hell is wrong with you." Peter replied evenly. He paused. "Is this about me, or should I say _us_? Because if I'm getting on your nerves, then just say it to my face."

"_Fine_." Olivia was beyond enraged now, but she diverted all her strength to maintaining what little was left of her composure. "Lose the stupid jokes. You've had your fun for a week now, aren't you happy with that? Or do you have to keep pushing my buttons just because you know that that was probably one of the most embarrassing moments of my entire career with the Bureau, and you just can't get enough of the fact that you've got something to hold over my head? Isn't that it, Peter?"

Olivia stood, panting slightly. Peter's grasp loosened a little and he looked genuinely shocked at her words. "No, not at all, 'Liv. If I'd known that it made you feel this way… I would have put an end to it in a heartbeat."

"You… you would have done that."

It was more of a reaffirming statement than a question, but Olivia wanted to be sure of what she was hearing. Her rage was dissipating with each passing second that her gaze was locked onto Peter's eyes. Now she didn't know what she ought to think; too many emotions were swirling around inside her to distinguish any single one as what she could be truly feeling.

"Yes, I would have."

"Without any further questions?"

"None whatsoever."

Olivia opened her mouth to further scrutinize Peter's statement, to search for any flaws that would expose something, anything, to verify that he was lying. Olivia didn't know why, but a part of her wanted it all to be a lie – the sweet truth behind Peter's words was more than she could handle.

Peter slowly lowered their hands but didn't relinquish his grasp. Something in his eyes scared Olivia – it was like he knew more about her than she did. "I didn't know it meant so much to you. I'm sorry."

"It doesn't mean anything to me, it just got on my nerves after a while," Olivia replied defensively, pulling her hands free of Peter's and crossing them in front of her, again, in a shielding manner.

Peter seemed to be considering her words for good while before speaking. His lips curled into a sweet, understanding smile. God, what did he know? He must know something; why else would he be looking at her like… that? In that signature Peter Bishop way that painfully reminded her that he was the one person who could read her like no other.

"'Kay, I'm gonna head out and run a few errands. You need anything?"

Olivia shook her head, trying to appear as unfazed by their conversation as possible. "No, I'm good, thanks."

That smile was still present on Peter's face, and growing in attractiveness by the minute.

"You're sure you're ok now?"

"Yes, I'm fine," Olivia blinked back the tears of frustration mixed with confusion and just a hint of migraine pain.

"I'll see you later, 'Liv. I'm really sorry." He spoke softly, still looking concerned but… there was still that unidentifiable glimmer in his gaze that said that there was much more going on behind that damn smile. As he passed her, Olivia felt Peter's hand on her shoulder for a fraction of a moment. A gentle squeeze, and then their physical contact was broken, like an electrical current that had been amplified and unleashed for a split second before the circuit had been severed.

As if in a dream, Olivia returned to her office, partly to avoid talking to Walter for the time being, partly to find a place of sanctuary that she could sink into while the previous conversation set in. Back pressed to the back of the shut and locked door, Olivia closed her eyes and had to remind herself to breathe.

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_Thoughts? You know how much I'd love to hear 'em!_

_Any ideas as to what exactly Peter knows? Cyber cookies for anyone who gives it a go. :D_


	5. Chapter 4

_Happy september everyone:) The long story behind how this last chapter got to be so long boils down to the fact that i just couldn't stop writing. one moment my word count is at 2000 and then before you know it i hit 3, 4 and eventually ended up with a 5000 plus word count. O.o_

_I hope you all have as much fun reading it as i had writing it!_

_Disclaimer: Still don't own it. But hey that's life!_

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_What had just happened?_

There were too many questions buzzing around in Olivia's head to be able to make sense of anything at all. Sitting up against the door on the floor of her office, head supported by her hands, there was just one thought that she could discern quite clearly amid the bottomless swirling pool that was her mind.

"Where exactly does that leave me and Peter?" Olivia jumped when she realized that she'd spoken out loud. In doing so, the top of her head hit the doorknob and her migraine spiked to an unimaginable level. Olivia concentrated on her breathing as black spots dotted her field of vision. _Stay conscious, don't pass out…_

It took a minute for the spots to thin out and disappear completely. Olivia heaved a sigh of relief; passing out alone in her office wasn't on her list of things to do that day. She decided that she should probably get some more paper work done before the week ended, but another voice in her head, one that sounded suspiciously like Peter's, spoke against it. _Go home ,'Liv. Take care of your migraine. The last of the paperwork can wait until Monday…_

Against all better judgment and her driving need to complete her work, Olivia decided that home was the best option. Paperwork done with a massive headache would be sloppy and she'd end up re-doing it all next week anyways. It would also give her an excuse to stay away from the Bishops for a couple of hours in which she might try to figure out what the hell to do about Peter.

A few short minutes later, Olivia had gathered up her affects – coat, book-bag stuffed with files incase she was feeling better and could do some of it at home, and her car keys. Bidding a quick 'good evening' to Walter on her way out, Olivia Walked to her car as fast as her migraine would allow, which wasn't too fast at all. Every step sent a shockwave through her body that seemed to reverberate in her head and make her migraine steadily worse. Half way across the parking lot, she had to stop and give her pounding head a rest. She squeezed her eyes shut to block out the pain and was about to resume walking when the screech of a car made her look up. There was Peter in the particularly loud old Cruiser pulling up beside her. The shriek of the tires was enough to make her cringe, but she hid it as best she could.

"Hey 'Livia." Oh god, he was grinning at her. It was the same grin from earlier, when she was sure he knew something about her that she herself didn't even know.

"Hi. Done with the errands?"

He nodded towards the pile of shopping bags in the back seat. "Yup. Where are you off to?"

"Home. The migraine, you know, it's not feeling any better…"

"Do you need a lift? I'm not sure you're fit to drive if you're migraine is bad enough to make you stop working!"

Peter was being playful, like nothing had happened, but there was still that odd sparkle in his eyes that said otherwise.

"I think I'm ok. I can still walk, right?" Olivia joked back.

"Alright, Dunham, I'll trust you on it," Peter smiled kindly. "Just know that I'm sending a care package your way later on, ok?"

Damn him and his charm. "Oh… thanks, Peter. You don't have to –,"

Peter held up a hand to silence her. "Don't think anything of it, I just know a few good tricks for stopping migraines."

Olivia smiled. "So I'll see you later?"

"Yeah, just give me some time to get these," he jerked a thumb at the groceries in the backseat, "back to the hotel."

Nodding, Olivia backed away from the humming vehicle to allow Peter some room to pull out. He winked at her and zoomed out of the parking lot. This time, Olivia noted, he did it without any screeching – practically silent, except for the bits of loose gravel that crunched and crumbled beneath the rubber.

X

Forty minutes later found Olivia curled up on the couch at home wearing a white tank top and comfy black pants that were too long at the ankles; the result was that the pant cuffs had frayed terrifically. A mug of tea was clasped firmly in one hand and an expectant kind of feeling squirmed around in her gut. It didn't help her gut that every time a car drove by her townhouse, she perked up and glanced at the door. Then she would shake her head and wonder how on earth Peter had managed to wield such a power over her emotions. Only a couple of hours ago, she was ready to yell at him in exasperation. It was ridiculous. And after everything, here she was, practically waiting on the edge of her seat from him to come visit her. _What the hell._

A gentle knocking sound startled Olivia out of her reverie and she nearly spilled her now cold tea all over herself. Finding her hands suddenly quite shaky, Olivia placed the tea down on the coffee table with as much care as she could muster and stood to answer the door. She didn't even to bother looking through the peephole.

She opened the door, smiling, but at one glace as to what Peter held in his arms, her jaw dropped.

Peter was holding a big wicker basket, one of the hand-made ones that you would find at a street fair. Besides that beauty of the basket itself, the real shocker was what it contained: A two-liter water bottle, a personal massager like you'd buy in a dollar store but much better looking, foam ear plugs, eyeshades and other miscellaneous things that one would find in a first class airplane care package, a box of Advil, three DVDs, two microwaveable popcorn packages, a deck of cards and a package of pills that helped you sleep. A baby blue card was taped to the outside of the package with her name scrawled on it with a flourishing elegance.

Peter puffed out his chest at her obvious amazement and awe. "Leading scientists say," he began with a knowing smile, "that there are four main causes for migraines: One, that you're stressed. Two, that you're dehydrated. And three, that you're sleep-deprived."

Olivia smiled lightheartedly, unable to tear her eyes away from the colorful basket for too long. "And the fourth?"

Peter grinned. "That you're a freaking workaholic who hasn't taken any downtime in so long that no one can remember that last time you _weren't_ working."

"And leading scientists say this?"

"Well, Walter is pretty much leading science in a whole new direction altogether, and I'm along for the ride, and we say so."

"Walter too?" Olivia asked skeptically, still grinning.

Peter shrugged guiltily. "Fine, ya got me. It's just me saying that, but it doesn't make it any less true."

Olivia gazed at him for a moment. God, he really was amazing. "Well, thanks Peter, it's… it's sweet of you. Um, you wanna come in? I can take that for you y'know – "

He shook his head and readjusted his grasp on the parcel as he stepped past her . "I got it 'Livia, no worries."

Olivia smiled inwardly when he walked past her; whatever cologne he wore was spicy and rich, filling her lungs and making her momentarily lightheaded, which was more of a hindrance than a help for her migraine.

Peter plopped himself down on her couch and patted the seat beside him. Ignoring her migraine pain, Olivia obliged and they both sat for a moment just looking at the beautiful package that now rested on her coffee table.

"Well?" Peter finally asked. "Are you going to open it?"

His boyish charm smile won her over and she caved, smiling back. "Ok, card first."

The sleek blue envelope opened easily in her hands. Inside held a simple white card with floral embossing along the edges and even more in the corners. In the same scrawling handwriting as was on the envelope, it read:

_Olivia,_

_I am truly sorry. It was not my right to be a purposeful pain-in-the-ass for no other reason than my own personal amusement. For that I humbly repent and hope that you will be able to forgive me. Perhaps this small token will at least help your migraine – it is the least that I can do for you now. Also, I give you full permission to embarrass me in any way you would like for as long as you would like. Go ahead and make my life a living hell, I insist!_

_Yours,_

_Peter_

Olivia's mind was completely blank. She rested the letter in her lap and turned to Peter, utterly speechless. He was obviously waiting for her response, small smile still there, but not so extravagant as before she had opened his card. The look on his face said that if she hit him, he wouldn't be too surprised, nor would his feelings be hurt in any way. For a moment, Olivia almost did. He was a jackass to her for five days, and then at one word from her, the entire Peter Bishop demeanor had changed and he was this mature, charming, thoughtful guy who could render her mind and body inert with a simple 'I'm sorry' card. But it was more than that, Olivia reminded herself. It was his words, not the card that made her want to, in addition to punching the crap out of him, hug him, hold him, never let him go.

So for the first time in a _very_ long time, Olivia Dunham submitted to her inner cravings without a second thought, throwing all caution to the winds, and reached out, pulling Peter into a tight embrace. At first he seemed stunned at her sudden impulsive act, but then Olivia felt his arms around her; a protective circle that she didn't want to leave. Peter seemed to sense that she wasn't going to let go any time soon, for one arm inched slowly up her back to her bare shoulders and a strong but gentle hand tangled itself into her hair. The other wound around her waist with a stronger grasp than before, coming to rest on her hip, deepening their embrace. A small smile formed on Olivia's lips at both the thought and the sensation of Peter's hand on her hip. Eyes closed, she turned her head to gently nuzzle into the side of Peter's neck. His reply came in the form of one scruffy cheek being pressed to her soft smooth one. Every time he exhaled, his breath tickled Olivia's ear and danced down her neck, sending involuntary shivers surging down her back.

Olivia was waiting for the sound of that small voice that always told her to stop whenever she might be getting too close to someone, the little voice that told her to stop before things got out of control. But none came, and she took the absence of that voice as a good sign, relaxing further into Peter's embrace with a deep sigh. His thumb began tracing abstract shapes on her exposed hipbone, a gentle lulling sensation that made the butterflies that had been lying dormant in her stomach to spring to life in a wild frenzy. Olivia had never been so happy to own a tank top that was a couple inches shorter than most. Suddenly, two lips grazed the tender skin beneath her ear, then again on her earlobe; light butterfly kisses all the way up to her temple, gently trailing down her cheekbone toward her lips –

A vivid memory of Peter's lips against hers in a grimy sewer flashed through Olivia's mind and a sharp pain shot through her head like wildfire, making her open her eyes. A gasp escaped her lips and Peter stopped, looking down at her, now practically cradled against his chest. He rested a hand against her cheek. "Your migraine?"

"Yeah…" She breathed. Peter gently eased her up into a sitting position, but Olivia was barely able to maintain it from the pain.

"I'll be right back, stay here," Peter said, but Olivia barely registered it. Her head felt like it would explode any minute, and she had to rest it on her knees for added external pressure to counter the atomic bombs that were all suddenly detonating inside her skull.

Something very cold was pressed to her head and she looked up in relief to see Peter sitting beside her and pressing an ice pack to her forehead.

"Thank you…" Olivia held the ice pack to her head with a sigh. The coolness felt good on her throbbing head, kind of like a brain freeze after eating too much ice cream at once, but much better than enduring the drums of war that had decided to join in with the nuclear war in her head.

"Here, take these and drink this," Peter's voice came from beside her and Olivia obliged to his command, popping what she suspected to be two Advil pills into her mouth and taking a swig from the two-liter water bottle. Come to think of it, she hadn't drunk any water today at all, just juice with breakfast and a two coffees during the day. Another few gulps and she realized that she was in fact parched and continued to drink her fill. "Wow, you really did need water. I wasn't kidding about that whole dehydration thing."

She smiled at Peter's comment and cautiously opened one eye. The plastic bottle was now about a third empty. "Guess you were right," she said slowly, careful not to exert too much effort in talking.

Peter chuckled. "At least you can admit that I'm right about something!"

"Don't make me laugh, Peter, it hurts more," she mumbled and tried not to smile… _too_ much.

Peter's hand was on her back, rubbing slow gentle circles and then she felt the hum of the battery operated personal massager take its place and she smiled again.

"That thing isn't too bad, Peter. It – oh!" Peter had just hit a particularly tight muscle in her upper back and she was hopeless to even try and stifle a gasp. "Ohhhhh my God, I did not know that was so tense…"

A chuckle that was not her own reached her ears and she made a face, eyes still firmly closed against the pain, which seemed to be slowly dissipating. She was ready with a comeback, but Peter pressed harder on that one spot and she inhaled sharply, her back arching of its own accord to better stretch the muscle.

The migraine pain slowly ebbed down to a manageable level as Olivia concentrated on her back, the slow, relaxing circles Peter drew on it, and the purring of the massager as it worked its magic on her.

Finally, she was able to remove the ice pack and slowly opened her eyes. Peter was putting the massager neatly back into the pile of goodies he'd brought her.

"Hey," she said quietly to get his attention, "thanks for that, you didn't have to…"

Peter turned to her, completely serious. "What kind of friend would I be if I didn't?"

Olivia shrugged. "One that doesn't know me as well." She bit her lip. Maybe that was a little too much, a bit too presumptuous. Peter, however, seemed to brighten up at her words.

"As in I _do_ know enough about you to know that you live in opposite world. It turns out that 'I'm fine' or 'no thanks' or even 'I don't need any help' often means the contrary."

Olivia was left stunned for the second time in a row, but she managed to throw up a mask and cover it with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes and quick, "I guess you do know me a little bit."

Peter nodded. "I'd like to think that. Also," his smile brightened, "I'd like to believe that I know you well enough to pick out the right movies."

He reached a hand in the basket and held up the three DVDs. Olivia hadn't looked at the covers during her initial once-over of the basket and was pleasantly surprised to find two familiar titles looking back at her, and one she didn't know.

"_Breakfast at Tiffany's_, _Apollo 13_ and… _A Knight's Tale_?"

"So, how did I do?" Peter asked curiously, but Olivia was willing to bet that he already knew her answer.

She held up _Breakfast at Tiffany's_ and shook her head. "I don't know how you do it Peter, but this was one of my favorite movies when I was like eight, I haven't seen it in years though. I used to be able to speak all the words along with the film too."

Peter laughed good-naturedly. "What eight year old watches _Breakfast at Tiffany's_ enough to be able to recite the lines?"

Olivia laughed too, shaking her head. "I have no idea… I was an odd child I guess."

"Well, between counting cards at such a tender young age and this new tidbit of information, I reckon so."

Olivia lightly punched his arm and feigned a hurtful expression.

"Anyways," she continued, shooting him a mock serious look that couldn't hide her smile, "_this_ one –, " she held up _Apollo 13_, " – just happens to be one of my all-time favorite movies." She shook her head, eyes fixed on Peter, trying to scrutinize whatever lay behind that God damned smile and see what exactly he was playing at. But there were no cracks, no weaknesses, no way in. Peter was watching her watch him, and Olivia suspected that he was well aware of what she was attempting to do.

In response to her unanswered question, he replied, "I guess that you could call it a gift of mine."

Knowing that she would probably never get any further than that unless Peter allowed it, Olivia dropped her gaze and held up the last case.

"But I've never seen this one before. Why did you pick it?"

Peter looked genuinely shocked to the same degree that he would if she had just announced that she was a genetically altered clone from another reality come to destroy the universe. Then again, that probably wouldn't be too strange considering the work that they did.

"You've never seen _A Knight's Tale_ before? Never?"

"Nope. Looks like you guessed wrong," she teased triumphantly. Olivia basked in the glory that she'd done something to surprise Peter, but, as she watched, his expression of shock slowly changed to a cocky, exuberant smile.

She frowned for a moment, confused, and then opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Almost in stitches of laughter, Peter was nearly doubled over in his amusement – the fact that she had no idea what was going on.

Suddenly, the answer hit her. "You knew the whole time that I'd never seen this movie!"

Peter's laughter increased tenfold and she punched him again in the arm, a little harder this time. When he didn't stop laughing, she went in for another punch, beginning to laugh herself. Everything about him was infectious; the laughter, the smiles. She physically couldn't help it.

"Ok, ok, mercy! Mercy!" Peter pleaded when she had resorted to tickling him. "I confess, I knew!"

Breathless, Olivia sat back and allowed him to breathe.

"So I guess we're watching this one first?" Olivia held up the Heath Ledger movie and Peter nodded.

"I think you'll like it."

Olivia leaned in towards him, eyes flashing, challenging him. "I think you're putting your 'gift' to a little too much use."

Peter grabbed the bags of microwavable popcorn and leaned in too so that their noses were only a few inches apart. His eyes glittered in the late-afternoon-early-evening light that poured through her windows. There was something dangerous yet deeply seductive about his eyes. "Maybe I am."

Five minutes later, the popcorn was ready and they were watching the movie. As much as Olivia hated to admit it, Peter was right. Not only did she like the movie, she discovered that she in fact loved it. Especially the music. Several times Olivia caught herself humming along with one of the David Bowie songs and blushed madly when she saw that Peter noticed. Afterwards, it was _Apollo 13_ followed shortly by _Breakfast at Tiffany's_. Olivia could feel her eyes drooping in the last half hour of the movie, but it didn't stop her from reciting every word of the film in her head. Audrey Hepburn's lines came the easiest – she could even remember the intonations on all of her words. Peter requested that she recite the last five minutes of the movie out loud and, after much pleading and coaxing on his part, she finally gave in and spoke all of the words aloud. Out of the corner of her eye, Olivia saw that his eyes were on her instead of the screen for the entire recital.

After the credits stopped rolling, Olivia checked her watch.

_12:48 AM_

"It's getting late," she concluded, raising an eyebrow in surprise at just how late (or early) it was.

"Let's see…" Peter reached over and took her wrist into his hand, squinting to see the small numbers in the dim light from the blue Sony logo as it bounced around on the screen. Olivia's tired brain registered that he was very close to her and her heartbeat quickened. It would be a miracle if Peter couldn't hear her pulse too, for her ears were drumming with it. Sheer will kept her migraine at bay for the moment, and Olivia waited with baited breath until Peter sat back and released her arm.

"I think I've over-stayed my welcome." He grinned and stood. Olivia rose with him. A part of her mind screamed at her to whip up an excuse for him to stay longer. Her mouth opened to say something but she shut it before anything regrettable could come tumbling out. Peter frowned. "What were you going to say?"

Olivia froze, and then a witty reply jumped into her head before she could look like too much of an idiot. "Don't you already know that one?"

Peter smiled, seemingly excited by the thought of a chance to challenge his 'gift'.

"Well," he began slowly, bringing his hands up to rest on her bare shoulders, "if my spidey sense is correct – " she smiled, amused by his choice of words," – then it says that you were about to say something of great and immeasurable significance."

She made a face. "You're spidey sense is feeling pretty vague today I take it?"

He gave her shoulders a squeeze. "Hey, I'm just interpreting the signals. Don't blame me if the messages aren't crystal clear!"

"Just blame the radioactive spiders of the world?"

"I like the way you think." He fired her that smug grin and gave her a secretive wink. In spite of herself, Olivia blushed and silently thanked the heavens it was so dark. "Walk me to the door?" Peter removed his arms from her shoulders and instead offered her his arm like they were about to dance.

"Sure," Olivia smiled and accepted his offering, placing her hand in the crook of his arm.

They arrived at the door too soon, or so Olivia thought. She opened the door and they both stood in the doorframe for a moment before either spoke. Olivia was transfixed by the shadows that the streetlights played across Peter's face.

"So…" He dug his hands deep into his pockets and just looked at her, but not in a critical way, more in admiration, and Olivia tried not to fidget beneath his gaze.

"So." Olivia nodded slowly buying herself time to gather her thoughts. "Thank you for everything, Peter, really, it was... more than I could ever ask for."

"It's my pleasure, 'Livia," he replied, taking her by surprise and not making a clever joke or comment. "I'm always here, whenever you need me. Day or night, you know where to find me."

She smiled and looked down at her bare toes. "Yup, Freaky Avenue number six, two, seven."

Peter caught her joke and played it out. "Wouldn't that be Airline Freaky?"

Olivia raised an eyebrow, putting on a mock-surprised face. "I didn't know that you were a pilot too. MIT graduate become commercial pilot… you really _do_ learn something new every day."

"What can I say?" Peter trailed off, subtly signaling the end of their easy banter. Olivia swallowed hard. That meant goodbyes, and all she could think about was that damn sewer and the feeling of Peter's lips against hers, and the way they had caressed her ear, her cheek, her temple… a shudder nearly ran down her spine that had nothing to do with standing outside in the wee hours of the morning.

"Again, Olivia, I'm sorry," Peter apologized quietly. "Put that care package to some good use for me."

"I will; those ear plugs and sleeping mask are looking pretty inviting right now," she assured him with a small, shy smile.

Olivia bit her lip as Peter took a step closer to her, and another, until they were face to face and barely more an inch apart.

"Goodnight 'Liv," he said so quietly Olivia wasn't sure if she'd heard it at all. Ever so gently, he placed his hands on either side of her head and pressed his lips to her forehead. Olivia released a breath she didn't know she was holding, allowing her hands to find Peter's forearms and hold onto them. Out of exhaustion, her eyes refused to stay open so she let them close slowly, enjoying the sense of relaxation that came with it.

Whether they were there for three minutes or three hours, Olivia would never know. All she was aware of was the heat that radiated from his body, the fever that seemed to burn only where his lips touched her, how his thumbs rubbed slow, smooth circles on her temples, and how calm she felt in his arms.

As they began to slowly pull away, impulsive decision of the week number something-double-digits-and-way-too-high popped into her head.

_Kiss him._

_No way._

_Kiss him! When will you get this chance again?_

_I can't._

_Why the hell not?! Look at all he's done for you, what you've done for each other. How often do you find someone like this? Someone like Peter? Try one in six billion._

Olivia knew that it was true, no matter how hard the voice of logic and reason tried to fight it.

"Peter…" she began uneasily. He didn't pull back too much upon hearing the wavering tone of her voice.

"Yes 'Liv?"

She looked anywhere but at him, torn between two options that could easily change her current life as she knew it.

"'Liv? You ok?" Peter gently tipped her head upwards so that she had to look at him.

Her eyes met his, and in a heartbeat Olivia knew what she would do. Silencing the voice of judgment that was her usual guide with a mental wave, she placed her hands on his neck and was about to lean in but he beat her to it. Olivia was instantly flooded with warmth and wondered for a wild second how bad her memory was, since this kiss was even better than her memory of the one in the sewer tunnel. She snaked her arms around the back of his neck, enjoying the way he pulled her hips against his and held her fast. Her back eventually hit the wall as Peter crushed her into it, her breath escaping her lungs in a sharp exhale. Peter's lips began to travel down her neck to her chest and dangerously close to the neckline of her tank top. Olivia's hands held his head, fingers twisting in his short curls. Her breathing had grown heavy and she shuddered with joy as his mouth slowly worked its way back up to her lips. He kissed her once, twice and slowly pulled back to let them both breathe. Olivia's chest was heaving and it took more than a few deep breaths before she could speak.

"Wow, that was… _much_ better than when we were in the sewer."

Peter chuckled deeply and she could feel the rumble of his laughter through his chest. "Well, given the circumstances and the situation, we had a bit of an advantage on your doorstep except for the fact that your entire neighborhood probably thinks you're the biggest flirt at the Bureau."

Olivia bit her lip and grinned. "I don't think they all know where I work…"

"I hope not, for both our sakes. I don't want to be hunted down by some angry old lady for being a disturbance to her early morning peace on your doorstep."

"I'll let you know if any livid mobs start heading your way," Olivia promised.

"Deal." He gave her a quick kiss again, causing a smile to grace Olivia's lips, one in the likes that hadn't been seen in months.

"Goodnight Peter… and thanks again. For everything."

"No problem, sweetheart." Peter smiled sweetly, leant in again, and pecked her cheeks, her nose and lips with an astounding amount of tenderness and care. She was in his arms for one last brief moment before Peter stepped away and headed down the steps to the creaky old cruiser.

Olivia wrapped her arms around herself against the sudden outdoorsy chill that she hadn't felt until now and watched him go, tires screaming loudly on the pavement. She braced herself, but no pain erupted in her head, no black spots clouded her vision, no nuclear warheads using her skull as a testing lab. Maybe it was the meds. Maybe it was Peter. Or even a combination of both. Olivia smiled to herself. Of course it was Peter. He was her person, her everything. They had grown slowly and steadily closer over the last several months, and everything that had happened between them, all of their shared experiences, sewer incident included, had led up to this night. Olivia smiled again as she headed inside. Her sporadic impulses of the last week had somehow led her to spending a wonderful evening with Peter, topped off by an amazing few minutes of repeatedly kissing a man that she had grown more and more fond of as the night had worn on. It was enough for her to consider acting on impulse more often, even more so because her impulses always seemed to have something to do with the wonderful man that was Peter Bishop.

* * *

_That's it, that's all folks!!! :D_

_Thanks to all my amazing reviewers for sticking around to see this one end, your comments are love!_

_XOXO_


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